Lighting Candles
by whitetiger91
Summary: December 1st has always been special for the Nott family—for Theodore, it's the best day of the year.


_**A/N: This story was written for the International Wizarding School Championships, Year 1, practice round. I highly recommend you come and check out this brilliant new forum :)**_

 _ **School: Beauxbatons Academy**_

 _ **Year: Part-time**_

 _ **Theme: Christmas/ celebrating with family**_

 _ **Prompt: 8). Lighting a candle (Action)**_

 _ **Word count: 1320 words**_

 _ **Beta: A huge thank you to Grace (xoxoVanillaOrchidxoxo) for beta'ing this story for me :)**_

 _ **I apologise if this feels a little rushed, but my ability to write within small word counts sucks :s (said even as I'm still over the word count). In my head, Mrs (Rosalie) Nott died from illness (cancer), and that her husband, Mr (Belanus) Nott (the Death Eater) actually really loved her.**_

 _ **Regardless, I do hope you enjoy this story. Merry Christmas! Xx**_

* * *

 **Lighting Candles**

Theodore sighed as he made his way down the stairs. He'd been dreading this day for almost a year; he thought that somehow if he walked a little slower, he would delay the inevitable disappointment awaiting him in the dining room.

As he expected, his father was sitting at the head of the table, his head buried in the morning's copy of _The Daily Prophet._ The man barely grunted a greeting as the ten-year-old sat down. Although Theodore had long since learnt to not expect his father to show any emotion, he couldn't help but wonder if the man knew that it was December 1st. After a minute of waiting for any other sign of recognition, though, he shook his head and gave up the thought.

He picked up his spoon and stared at the bowl of porridge the house-elf placed before him. At least some things never changed.

* * *

 _ **One year earlier...**_

 _Theodore took the stairs two at a time, his giggles echoing throughout the manor. Although he'd been up all night, his excitement making sleep impossible, he had no time to yawn as he made his way to the main dining room.  
_ " _Are you ready?" he asked._

 _His mother chuckled and ushered him over to his seat where a bowl of steaming porridge was waiting for him. "Eat first," she said, taking her own seat._

 _Theodore wrinkled his nose as he dug his spoon into the gloop. He couldn't afford to waste a single second eating, not when he knew what awaited him in the living room._

" _But you're not eating," he said, looking at her untouched porridge._

 _His mother adjusted the scarf wrapped around her head. "I'm an adult; I already have plenty of energy."_

" _But—"_

" _Theodore..."_

 _Looking at the head of the table, Theodore saw that his father's dark eyes were narrowed. He quickly turned back to his bowl and began to shovel as much of the porridge into his mouth as possible._

" _Now can we decorate?" he asked when he was finished._

 _His mother's rosy lips tilted into a small smile and she nodded. He quickly shoved his chair back and power-walked from the room, mindful that his father's disapproving glare was following him._

* * *

Theodore couldn't look at the porridge anymore. Putting his spoon down, he scraped his chair back.

"Where do you think you're going?" his father asked, finally putting down his newspaper.

"To my room…"

"Do you not know what day it is? Or do you expect me to do it all myself?"

Despite his confusion, he knew better than to ask what his father was talking about. Instead, he watched as the man sighed and stood up. Without a word, he trailed out of the dining room, leaving Theodore to follow behind him.

His father headed straight for the living room, and if Theodore had still been holding his spoon, he would've dropped it. Several cardboard boxes were piled around the room, but it was the tall tree sitting in the middle that made his heart skip a beat.

"The elf brought it in before I remembered to tell it not to," his father said, not meeting his surprised gaze.

* * *

" _It's even bigger than I remember," Theodore said, unable to help the way his mouth popped open._

 _Taking pride of place in the centre of the room was a humongous tree just waiting to be decorated. It was surrounded by boxes full of baubles, tinsel, pine cones, and other decorations._

" _The biggest money could buy, of course," his father said before his proud grin faltered and he looked towards Theodore's mother."Perhaps too big... Will you be alright? Maybe we should get the elf to decorate this year."_

 _Theodore rushed over to his mother and began helping her take out the decorations. His mother's illness had not only made her too sick to eat and her hair to fall out, but often too tired to do any activities they normally did together. She barely played with him anymore; he didn't want her to miss out on decorating the tree, too._

" _Nonsense, it's nothing I can't handle," she said, grinning. Taking out a ball of tinsel, she passed it to him. "Especially when you're here to untangle the knots."_

 _His father grimaced as he took the tinsel over to one of the sofas, his frown deepening when his mother flicked her wand at the wireless and jolly Christmas music filled the room. She didn't look sick as she danced around the room. Theodore continued pulling out the other ornaments, carefully unwrapping a few glass baubles from tissue paper and placing candy canes on the tree's branches._

 _When he got to his favourite ornaments, however, his mother placed her hand over his. "Uh, uh, uh, that's my job," she said, winking._

 _Theodore pouted as she took the candles from him. "But I'm old enough now."_

" _One day, you'll be able to light them yourself," she said, carefully placing the ornate brass holders on the tree. "Why don't you shut the curtains?"_

 _His pout soon transformed back into a smile and he nodded. Hurrying over to the curtains, he closed out the swirling snow outside._

* * *

Theodore watched in shock as his father began to unpick a ball of tinsel that had, yet again, managed to become tangled.

"Well, don't just stand there. Get to it," his father said, snapping him to attention.

Silence filled the room as they hung the various ornaments on the tree, the wireless remaining switched off. Unlike the silence that had engulfed the manor since his mother's passing, however, the absence of Christmas carols or any chatter felt peaceful.

"That's the last of the baubles," Theodore finally said.

He turned to check the boxes, only to find his father staring at something in his hand. His heart gave a jolt when he realised that it was one of his mother's candles.

* * *

" _Are we ready?"_

 _Theodore nodded at his mother. He scooted further back into the sofa, careful not to bump his father sitting next to him. From the rare smile the man wore, he could tell he was just as excited to see the tree being lit as he was._

" _Alright, on the count of three." His mother grinned as she pointed her wand at the shortest candle, her blue eyes dancing. "One, two…_ Incendio _."_

 _Theodore gasped as the candle flickered to life, followed soon by the other candles placed around the tree. It was a magical sight as they illuminated the room, filling it with warmth. His mother came and sat on the other side of him._

 _As they sat together admiring the tree, he said, "The tree isn't pretty without them."_

" _Yes, they are quite pretty, but do you know why I like them?" His mother's eyes glinted in the light as she pulled him closer and reached over to grasp his father's hand. "Because whenever they're lit, it means we're together."_

 _Theodore smiled, his eyes turning back to the tree. He could just tell that this was going to be the best Christmas yet._

* * *

Theodore shuffled on the spot, not sure what to do. He hadn't expected his father to decorate the tree, let alone remember the significance of the candle.

The man eventually wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. "Well, hurry up and draw the curtains."

When he turned around, Theodore could see that his dark eyes were still watery. After a moment's hesitation, he walked to the window and shut the drapes, before turning back to see that his father had placed the candles on the tree.

The man didn't count down as he lit the candle with his wand, and Theodore didn't gasp as the other candles burst into small flames.

"There. Now we're together," his father murmured, sinking down onto the sofa.

For the first time that year, Theodore felt warm again. He sat next to his father, no longer dreading the holiday season.


End file.
